


Fish and Chips

by tisfan



Series: Good Omens Bingo [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Autumn, Fluff, Food, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 01:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20666831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Aziraphale misses his bookshop...For I5 - Autumn(also, BINGO, the 5 row is complete!)





	Fish and Chips

Tadfield was delightful. Open skies, expansive gardens, cozy neighbors. Just what everyone wanted, after retiring from the city. After the Apoca-could-ya-not, the demon Crowley and his angel, Aziraphale, had retired to Tadfield, at least for a few years. Just to keep an eye on Adam, and things, in general. What sort of things, neither of them had any idea. Just things.

That needed an eye kept on them.

So far, it was a lovely autumn, the trees were shedding their leaves, the birds were migrating south, the children were going back to school. The apples were ripe and ready for picking.

“I miss my bookshop,” Aziraphale complained. 

“I don’t know why,” Crowley remarked, looking up from the chair where he was lounging, because Crowley never actually sat in chairs, he draped himself all over them like he either had not quite enough bones in his body, or maybe a few too many, but in either case, he looked like a skinny, slinky, ginger cat that found itself twisted up on the settee cushions. “Looks like you brought the lot with you, as it is. Wasn’t like you ever sold a blessed book if you could possibly manage to avoid it.”

“I miss all the little teashops and corner bistros,” Aziraphale said. “There are exactly two restaurants in Tadfield, if one doesn’t count all the blasted so-called _fast food_.”

“What’s wrong with fast food? I invented it, after all,” Crowley said. Crowley liked fizzy drinks and burgers with enough calories to count as three normal meals. He liked bacon that had never, in fact, seen the inside of a pig, and chips that had been boiled in a combination of oil and meat fat, and then served to both kosher-keeping people and vegetarians alike without them knowing.

“Why am I not surprised?” Aziraphale said. “It’s demented. They take perfectly good products and make rubbish from it.”

“Aw, angel, you just haven’t had a decent fish an’ chips,” Crowley said. “Come on, let me tempt you. Nothing like a nice hot fried fish on a cold night.”

Aziraphale pretended to consider it; there was that certain gleam in his eyes, like Crowley had done something _right_. “Oh, all right, then.”


End file.
